


and when you're awake, do you think of me?

by theinsanelycooltheatrekid



Series: do you know / how in love with you / i am? [2]
Category: Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Fluff, M/M, Pining, Sharing a Bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-20
Updated: 2020-10-20
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:00:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27120796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theinsanelycooltheatrekid/pseuds/theinsanelycooltheatrekid
Summary: "I- what?" is all you can formulate because most of your brain cells are intensely focused on every point of contact between the two of you.
Relationships: Evan Hansen/Jared Kleinman
Series: do you know / how in love with you / i am? [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1979611
Comments: 10
Kudos: 48





	and when you're awake, do you think of me?

**Author's Note:**

> kleinsen brain rot is consuming me so have a sequel

You thought you’d never get to see more than a hint of soft Jared. 

That night two weeks ago was an exception; you’d woken up, him spooning you, and shut your eyes tight again. You waited until he shifted, yawning; leaving that spot on your waist cold from where his hand had been. You pretended to wake up when you felt a pillow hit your head, and yawned as Jared cackled. 

It’s Wednesday, now; you’re spread-eagled on the floor, doing homework, even though it’s late. You glance up at Jared, on your bed, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth and twirling his pencil.

You probably stare for longer than is socially acceptable, but how can you resist, when he heaves out a frustrated sigh  _ just like that _ and pushes one hand through his hair?

Jared notices you looking. His eyes widen for a second, and he huffs out a laugh. “Like what you see?”

You choke on your words. The obvious answer is yes (that’s new?) but you can’t just  _ say  _ that. He laughs again as your face turns red, slamming his textbook closed in the process. “C’mon. We’re going outside.”

“It’s past ten,” you reply, baffled. Jared shrugs and grabs your denim jacket and you gape at him. 

“What? It’s cold. Use a different one.”

That’s not the issue here; in fact, the temperature couldn’t possibly bother you any less right now because Jared’s nudging his glasses up his nose with one knuckle, the sleeves of your jacket far too long, and he’s dwarfed by it. Putting it short, he looks  _ adorable.  _

“Hey. C’mon!”

You leave without any kind of coat. Jared drags you to the nearest park that has a little playground and runs straight for the swings. You swing back and forth till you’re giddy, laughing as your nose turns red from the cold. 

He goes for the roundabout next, hopping on and demanding you push. You drag him round and round as he whoops louder than you’ve heard in months, until he stumbles off, dizzy. 

Jared hasn’t been like this in a long time. He hasn’t been loud, or confident, or the other thing he definitely is right now that you can't quite place, since you were little kids. 

You sit next to each other on the bench, and you not-so-subtly shuffle closer to him. “Body heat,” you reason, praying that your stutter doesn’t slip out, not now. 

There’s silence, again. He knocks his knee with yours and you look at him. And he smiles. 

You feel all the breath leave your body at the way he looks at you. His eyes are soft and bright and his smile leaves you reeling.

You attempt to suck air into your lungs. He’s still looking at you with those same eyes, but the smile has faded now. He places a hand on your knee. 

“Um.”

And you break it. You fucking break it. You couldn’t keep your mouth shut. It’s nothing much really; the tiniest sound, but it’s enough. Jared clears his throat and stands up, stating that you should probably head on home. You know he’s right. 

All the walk back you can’t ignore the sinking feeling in your stomach; you’re disappointed. What were you hoping for, then? Why does it hurt to feel like you’ve missed something you were meant to have?

It’s quiet when you get in; you both get ready for bed. You slip into bed as Jared makes himself comfortable on the floor; he’s asleep almost immediately.

The same can’t be said for you. You watch the minutes tick past, Jared's gentle snores filling the air. At around two you realise there's nothing good to be found lying alone with your thoughts and you creep downstairs to make yourself a hot chocolate.

You stand waiting for the water to boil, fingers idly tapping on the counter.

"What kind of psychopath makes hot chocolate with  _ water _ ?"

His name is half-formed on your lips, tilted up in a question, but before you can turn around there's arms wrapping around your waist and a warm body slotted against yours.

Jared shuffles around a little, humming, until his cheek is pressed in between your shoulder blades. You gape uselessly like a fish, the spoon you were holding clattering onto the counter, and he chuckles softly, arms tightening around your middle.

You stand there for a moment, still, hardly daring to take a breath. You hear him yawn and he nuzzles his cheek into your back. The kitchen is silent.

Your heart is thumping overtime as he presses himself fully against you. All other thoughts have long since left your mind because all you can see, feel, think, is Jared; electricity tingling where your bodies meet, rushes of warmth swooping low in your body, dangerous thoughts,  _ happy  _ thoughts, starting to creep in.

He ever so slowly pulls away, fingertips sliding across your waist and onto your arm as he takes one of your hands in his, lacing your fingers together, soft as anything. 

"Come to bed?" he asks gently, eyes flitting away from your face. 

How can you refuse?

You let him tug you to your bedroom, hot chocolate forgotten as you climb into your bed. Jared slips in next to you, hesitant; you’re inches apart, now.

“I didn’t know you were up,” are the first words that leave your mouth and you're almost ashamed to hear just how croaky your voice is. You clear your throat once, twice, and wait for Jared to answer. 

“You were gone-” he yawns, “-and I was… I needed to know where you were?”

“What do you mean?”

His eyes are half-lidded. “I mean, I- You were gone." He moves, laying one arm over your chest. Your skin tingles beneath your shirt where he traces loops on your ribcage with his index finger. "Can't leave you."

"I- what?" is all you can formulate because most of your brain cells are intensely focused on every point of contact between the two of you.

He's falling asleep, now, but he still replies. "Can't lose you. Wasn't… there, last time. Can't lose you." 

At this, he shifts so that his head is tucked into the crook of your neck and he's holding on to you for dear life, throwing his leg over you and letting his hand drift so that it rests on your hip. 

Emotion overcomes you in a single wave as you process Jared's words. You know he never says much; he must know it too. Which is why he's doing this, instead, whatever this is, and you don't want it to stop. 

Despite the small part of your brain telling you to just shut up and enjoy it, you choke out a small "Why-?"

His head lifts in the dark. "You don't like it?"

_ I love it,  _ you want to say,  _ I love you. _

"No, it's- it's nice."

**Author's Note:**

> kudos and comments are very much appreciated :)) idk if i wanna leave this here or maybe do a third and final part? stay tuned!!


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